"Poor people! You have, then, only me!"
It was said that he had a catalogue of similar phrases for various occasions written down for him by Père Griffet, and dutifully learned by heart.
At Epernay the carriages of her Majesty and la Châteauroux passed each other. By that time madame, in terror of the people who had threatened to mob her along the way, was travelling incognito in the humblest possible manner, changing places, when going through towns, with Antoinette. Even as it was, their progress was extremely difficult. Four women journeying alone, with no man but an attendant valet seated on the box, to manage for them, were treated with none too much respect in the France of those days. Ere they reached Paris, however, and before the Queen had arrived at her lord's side, a triumphant courier tore along the road on his way to the metropolis with the word that Louis' danger was over, that he would recover. Mme. de Châteauroux had arrived at Meaux, and was resting there overnight, when the news spread through the town. Mme. de Lauraguais had doubted its effect on her sister. When it was told her, however, the Duchess said, very quietly: "I thank the good God that it is so!" and lapsed again into that silence which she had persistently maintained since leaving the King. Later in the night, however, she despatched to Richelieu one of those strange, bourgeois epistles that have come down to us to be marvelled at as written by a gentlewoman.*
* Lettres Autographes de Mme. Châteauroux,—Library of Rouen: "I can well believe that so long as the King is feeble he will be in a great state of devotion; but, as soon as he is better, I bet I shall trot furiously through his head, and that in the end he will not be able to resist, but will quietly send Bachelier and Lebel to see what is become of me."
Meaux is not a great distance from Paris, but it was almost the 1st of September before the sisters reached their destination. They did not go to the Hôtel de Mailly, for the reason that Henri's wife, never fond of her superb sister-in-law, would very possibly fail to know her now in the time of her adversity. Rather, Mesdames de Lauraguais and Châteauroux retired to a small hôtel in the Rue du Bac, which the favorite had inhabited before. On August 28th they arrived, travel-stained, weary, but mightily relieved in heart at being safe at their journey's end. The little house was desolate enough when they entered it, but, with the combined efforts of the two maids, the valet Fouchelet, and the concièrge, a supper was contrived, some beds prepared, and a little fresh air, hot as it was, let through the musty rooms.
At one o'clock of the next day Mme. de Lauraguais, much refreshed by her sleep and revived by her chocolate, entered her sister's bedroom. Marie Anne was still in bed, wide-awake, however, and meditating on getting up.
"Good-morning, Anne. Here is the latest Nouvelles à la Main from Mme. Doublet's. Jeanne obtained it for me, I don't know where, possibly at Henri's."
"And what does it say? What—of—Louis?"
Elise's expression changed. "Oh—there is little of him."
"Tell me at once. What has been done now? I am, perhaps, no longer Duchess?"